66: Why Jane Austen, by Rachel Brownstein (2011 hardcover)

Currently reading.

65: Blackout, by Connie Willis (2010 paperback; hardcover published 2010)

Over the summer, NPR put out "Your Picks: Top 100 Science-Fiction, Fantasy Reads."  It's a decent list, although lacking a bit in female authors (Octavia Butler is noticeably and disappointingly absent, for instance.).  One female author on the list with whom I was not familiar is Connie Willis, whose Doomsday Book came in at 97.  While scavenging the close-out sale at Border's, I came across Blackout and decided to give it a try.

At first I had quite a hard time with the book, and I couldn't figure out why.  It wasn't because of the content or premise, as its storyline of time-traveling historians appealed to me.  I was a bit less interested in the WW II focus, but that still didn't explain it.  Finally, I realized that the author's extensive use of dialogue--both external and internal--was putting me off. This may have been exacerbated by the fact that the language is British English in the early 1940s, a vernacular similar enough to mine so that I felt it should seem comfortable, but different enough so that it really wasn't. Things felt stilted and formal, which I suppose was true of the time itself as well as the language, when compared to today.

Ultimately I grew to enjoy the book and the opportunity to peek into 1940 London during the Blitz. Because the narrators are historians, traveling back in time to study particular events, it seems natural to have historical information and a narrative storyline jumbled together.  And, this is really the way I like my history lessons: fictional and story driven. I'm taking a bit of a break from the war, but I'll be back sometime with a review of the follow-up book, All Clear.

64: Delirium: The Special Edition, by Lauren Oliver (2011 hardcover)

It's probably not fair to this book that I (temporarily, I'm guessing) reached my fill of teen dystopian romances midway through reading it.  It's a genre I generally like, but this one leaned a bit too far toward the romance end of things for my taste; I can tolerate the romance as long as the world developed behind it is interesting and compelling.  In this book, however, the romance is center stage.

Why this took me by surprise, I don't know, as it's basically stated on the jacket cover.  After all, 17-year-old Lena lives in a world where love is considered a life-threatening disease, where 60+ years earlier scientists came up with a surgical "cure" to relieve people of its symptoms.  The surgery to prevent delirium takes place at age 18, though, and any reader of TeenLit knows what will happen in those circumstances--especially after learning that Lena's mother's cure just never took, even after three attempts, and she ended up committing suicide when Lena was a child.  And then she meets a boy from the wilds: the areas outside the highly policed and controlled cities, where people don't get the cure and still choose their own mates, ways of life, etc.

Despite my lack of enthusiasm for Delirium, I must admit I'll likely read the sequel; writing about it now makes me consider some of the story elements and concepts I did like, such as making me reflect in how quickly a culture can be changed due to revolution/technology/chaos.  I think I just read myself into a genre rut here and need a bit of a break.   

(By the way, if you were wondering what is so special about the Special Edition: there's a Q & A section and the first chapter of the sequel. I actually chose it because I liked the cover better.) 

63: Going Bovine, by Libba Bray (2009 paperback)

A novel about a teen stoner and misfit being diagnosed with Mad Cow Disease doesn't sound particularly funny or inspiring, but in the hands of Libba Bray it becomes just that. After racing through Beauty Queens (reviewed earlier), I knew I had to read more of Bray's work. The fact that this book--with a completely different narrator and premise than Beauty Queens--was equally entertaining leaves me convinced of Bray's gifts as a writer and observer of American society.

One of Bray's talents is to take unlikely protagonists, such as sixteen-year-old Cameron, and turn them into mock-heroic figures.  Rather than accepting the limitations of his fatal illness, Cameron embarks on a cross-country journey with a punk angel, a teen dwarf, and a yard gnome/Viking god as companions.  The mission?  To find the man with a cure for Cameron's illness by searching tabloids, billboards, and random matchbook covers for clues, while also avoiding fire demons and surviving a stay in a cult of happiness.  It's a rollicking ride with a surprising conclusion, and it left me wanting more Libba Bray.

In fact, I just picked up the first volume of her Gemma Doyle trilogy, featuring a teen girl in Victorian England.  The series looks to be of a completely different genre--light horror, historical fiction--from the books I've already read by Bray, so I'm curious to see how her skills play out. This entire enterprise is a big departure for me, too, as I usually like to read an author's books in the order they were written/published, and this series predates either of her two books I've already read. Stay tuned to see how the experiment works out--and let me know if you've read Bray's work and what you thought.

62: Matched, by Ally Condie (2010 hardcover)

One of the blurbs on the back jacket of the book calls Matched a "dystopian love story," and I suppose that is as good a descriptor as any.  The dystopian part of the description makes it rise above the level of typical teen romance, though, exploring what happens when a society attempts to control every aspect of the lives of its members--from birth (who can bear children, when, and how many), through marriage (if and to whom), and death (by midnight on your 80th birthday). In doing so, Condie encourages her readers to weigh the importance of freedom versus chaos and raises the question of when it's necessary to question authority.

The story kicks off with 17-year-old Cassia riding the train to the city with her parents, her childhood friend and his parents, and many other well-dressed 17-year-olds and their families. As the story unfolds, we learn that the same thing is happening throughout the country, where young men and women are heading to their city hall for a banquet during which they will be introduced to their "match"--the person they will court and then marry at age 21. Characteristics and aptitudes have been entered into a database so that the match chosen for them will be the best possible, ensuring the genetic health of their offspring and a compatible lifestyle for the couple. Cassia has never before questioned the arrangement and looks forward to the unveiling of her match over large TV screens, a system to make matches possible across large geographic areas.  

As they must to make a story, things eventually go wrong with Cassia's match, and she begins to question the very basis of her world. In the process, a fascinating social experiment is revealed, wherein people's education, meal preparation, occupation, and leisure time is standardized and scheduled. And, when things aren't going just as you'd hoped, you can always take the blue, green, or red pill that you are required to carry with you at all times. 

In many ways, the storyline borrows elements of 1984 and Brave New World: there is a war in the borderlands and technology is highly advanced. Unlike those novels, though, Condie has clearly set Matched up for a sequel--or even more likely in the teen world, as the first installment in a trilogy--and I am looking forward to seeing where it leads. 

60-61: The Maze Runner and The Scorch Trials (Books 1 and 2 of the Maze Runner trilogy), by James Dashner (2009 paperback and 2010 hardcover)

I came across this trilogy in postings on the Centurions of 2011 Facebook page regarding the monthly books members have read.  Time and time again, folks commented on these books being among their favorite for the month.  With such regular recommendations, a few tantalizing details, and the promise of a maze, how could I resist trying another post-apocalyptic TeenLit series?

I'll have to say that when reading the first third of The Maze Runner, I was less than enthralled. The main character is a whiny, self-centered 16-year-old boy named Thomas, and I felt no kinship with him. Had I been trapped in the center (the Glade) of the maze with him and his 50 or so teen male cohorts, I would have wanted to smack him--and pretty much every one of them--upside the head and told him to get over himself.  Sure your memory has been wiped, sure you are trapped in a prison for unknown crimes, and sure horrific creatures lurk in the corridors waiting to kill you, but...sheesh.  Enough of the moping and discourteous behavior, Thomas.  Snap out of it!

And, of course, he does snap out of it. After all, as in all teen post-apocalyptic tales, these young folks must rise to the occasion.  Or be eaten by monsters.

By the middle of the first volume, enthrallment kicked in, and I rushed right on to The Scorch Trials, where the girls finally show up.  Rather than the surreal, obviously fabricated maze, the two teen teams now enter the real world--alternating between cities filled with insane, zombie-like Cranks, a nightmare landscape with relentless sun beating down on a desert wasteland, and torrential wind and lightening storms destroying anything alive on said wasteland.  It's a world devastated by sun flairs and an extremely contagious fatal disease. And monsters, but different monsters.

I read these first volumes in two days, and despite how busy I am preparing for this Saturday's pig roast and the looming first day of the semester, I'm going to get to Northtown Books as soon as possible to pick up the trilogy's conclusion, The Death Cure. 

59: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, by Ransom Riggs (2011 hardcover)

When I'm browsing the bookshelves at a store, there are some things that are likely to make me pick up a book and look more closely at the words on its pages: a good cover image, an interesting title, odd sizing, and good color.  This book has the first two items on my list, as well as another gimmick within its pages; it includes 40+ vintage pictures throughout, which serve to illustrate an interesting tale.  And, as I read more closely, I realized that the photographs aren't mere supplements to the story, but provide additional detail and information to the story itself--a bit like a graphic novel does, although in a more subtle fashion manner.  Indeed, the conclusion I reached in reading the book is that the pictures came first.  At the very least, some of the photographs were found by the author, inspiring a story that led him to search for more photos to complete the tale.

These aren't simply old pictures, either, but a collection capturing the unusual, the strange, the, well...peculiar. Jacob, the 16-year-old protagonist, is first shown a few of these photographs by his grandfather, a Holocaust survivor and teller of fanciful stories. At least Jacob believes these stories to be fanciful, but upon his grandfather's death he has a glimpse into a world of the peculiar and horrific. Once his eyes have been opened, he can't unsee these strange things, and he actively seeks them out--gaining permission to visit the remote island where his grandfather's orphanage, the name of which provides the title of the novel, was located.

The tale told is charming, action-filled, and old-fashioned in a modern kind of way. It involves characters with unusual talents, time loops, and a boy learning to face himself and the world.  It's a good story to begin with, but the photographs raise it to something more.

56-58: Shiver, Linger, Forever (Wolves of Mercy Falls trilogy), by Maggie Stiefvater (2009/10 paperback, 2011 hardcover)

I've seen these books at the bookstore for some time, and they always catch my attention. It's a gimmick thing, quite honestly: the color of the cover art matches the color of ink the text is printed in throughout the book. However, I also started seeing the series recommended regularly on the Centurions of 2011 Facebook page, so I looked into them.  The descriptions sounded a bit like cheesy teen romances, so I posted a question for Centurion members to see what folks want. Several people assured me that the books were much more than cheesy romances, so I decided to try them out.

What I discovered is that these are cheesy teen romances (a good lesson of don't believe everything you read.), but with one difference: werewolves. As you roll your eyes and before you stop reading this review, though, I'd like to say that there is something compelling about the series--compelling enough that I read through all three and will likely run out and get the (likely) fourth upon its release. What got me hooked is Stiefvater's twist on the classic werewolf story: instead of wolfing out at the full moon, the wolves here change with the seasons--becoming wolves in winter and human in summer.  The season varies according to the wolf/person, and the wolf stage of life extends over the years until a person no longer is able to change back to his/her human form again.

So, as far as the romance goes, it's all Team Jacob here. Lest the reader become complacent, however, there is another twist on werewolf-human relationships: After surviving a wolf attack, young Grace becomes oddly attracted to the wolf pack in the forest behind her--and especially to a single yellow-eyed wolf that stands sentinel at the edge of Grace's yard for much of the winter. Rather than developing an attraction for a boy who she later learns is a wolf (as the story would go), our protagonist is attracted to the wolf that she later learns is a boy. Throw in the standard parental neglect, and let the teen rebellion, angst, and secrecy begin!

If you are receptive to a teen-werewolf-romance series, there really are some things that distinguish this set of books from other teen romances, in addition to what I've already described. For one, Stiefvater takes a chance on making the main couple in the series a bit more sexual--a surprise in Scholastic books--if very subtly so. Additionally, the female lead doesn't lack for outside interests, practical skills, or ambition; she's a bit obsessed with her wolf, but she still makes the effort to figure out how he might fit into an actual life rather than making him her life. Other positive aspects of  TeenLit appear as well; the importance of loyalty, a need for critical thinking and decision making, and the introduction of current issues (the environment, animal cruelty) are key elements in the books.

I really want to end with a werewolf pun or quip here, but I'll restrain myself.  If you want to suggest a good one in the comments section below, though, I won't stop you. 

55: Beauty Queens, by Libba Bray (2011 hardback)

How could I not love a book about a plane load of teen beauty queens crashing on a (mostly) deserted island?  The absurdity of the situation, coupled with the insanity of the pageant culture, and topped off with hilarious interactions between the surviving contestants and members of the secret corporate military complex hidden on the island (in a volcano, of course!) kept me laughing all the way through this book. Bray has a gift for satire, and this not-just-for-teens book provides smart commentary on modern American society, pop-culture, and (social) media.  I'm going to run out and buy her previously-published work as well!

54: Stuffed, by Glenn Eichler and Nick Bertozzi (2009 paperback)

I really didn't enjoy this graphic novel, so I can't muster up the energy to tell you much about it.  In a nutshell: father dies, politically incorrect/racial artifact left behind, PC son tries to appropriately place said object, crazy/unPC brother shows up, hilarity and heartache ensue, successful resolution and family reunion conclude.  If it was a regular text-based book, I never would have finished it, but I managed to pull through it in graphic form.  I know I haven't sold it well, but if you're interested in a copy, contact me to get mine before I drop it at the local used bookseller.

53: Glow (Sky Chasers, Volume 1), by Amy Kathleen Ryan (2011 advance reader paperback; release 9.27.2011)

My friend Marsha Mielke loaned me this book, saying that she'd be interested to hear what I thought about the religious aspect of it. I'm an atheist, and while she doesn't share my views, we have easy conversations about religion and belief.  The thing is, that while some atheists find religious themes unattractive or uncomfortable, I actually don't mind them when they are used effectively.  Thirteen years of Catholic school steeped me in the stories of that religion, so there is almost a comfort in recognizing the symbols and myths that play themselves out over the course of human history. While I don't believe in a god and the attendant behaviors, I have no problem with the fact that many people do--unless they are using their religion to oppress, condemn, or judge others.

That's the thing that makes the story of Glow interesting: a religious theme is used to explore societal issues, human survival, and treatment of others. The setting is aboard two spacecraft hurtling through space on a decades-long journey to a replacement planet in order to start Earth culture over again. (I'm sure they'll do it right this time.) These, of course, are huge crafts, with gardens, farms, labs, living quarters--basically very Next Generation-ish. What we come to learn over the course of time is that the two crafts started off with one difference; crew members on one were religious/ Christian, and the crew on the other were non-believers and members of other religions, with a few Christians mixed in.  As the story unfolds, Waverly and Kieran, teens in the first generation born in space aboard the mixed belief ship, must face the problems caused by another difference that developed after the ships--traveling light years apart--left Earth.  While their ship managed to develop a cure to the infertility that plagued the crafts, the Christian ship never did. Nor were they willing to share their cure with their Christian counterparts. (Yeah, sort of makes the outlook on successfully avoiding the problems that caused this migration in the first place look a bit bleak, huh?)

Enter violent attacks, religious fervor, teen angst...

The book is pretty good, even if it doesn't compare to the Hunger Games series (a required reference on the jacket cover every TeenLit SciF Post Apocalyptic series). The romance playing second fiddle to the societal structures and issues explored. The religious theme doesn't fully present itself until the last third of the book, and it doesn't come down too specifically on either side of the aisle.  In the closing Acknowledgements, Ryan explains that "The theories of Sacvan Bercovitch, Ph.D., described in his remarkable book The Puritan Origins of the American Self shaped the major themes in Glow." I have to confess that I won't be racing out to explore those theories in the original, but I will patiently wait for them to make their way into the sequel.

52: Because Digital Writing Matters: Improving Student Writing in Online and Multimedia Environments, by Danielle Nicole DeVoss, Elyse Eidman-Aadahl and Troy Hicks (2010 paperback)

I did a lot of reading during the last month of summer (procrastination does that), but I wasn't half as good at keeping up on my blog posting.  So, I put up entries without descriptions and hope to come back at a later time to comment.  If you're dying to get the scoop on this book, or one of the books in the similarly-blank entries below, drop me an email or comment, and I'll get back to you.

51: Scarlet (Volume 1), by Brian Michael Bendis and Alex Maleev (2011 hardcover trade; issues 1-5)

Comments at later time.

50: Morning Glories (Volume 1), by Nick Spencer, Joe Esima, and Rodin Esquejo (2011 paperback trade)

Comments at a later time.